


Teddy Bear

by Its_Bumblebee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Captain America - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Femdom, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of past abuse, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Steve is a good boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_Bumblebee/pseuds/Its_Bumblebee
Summary: You're Bucky's sister and you really don't get along with Steve. He doesn't like how carefree you are. You don't like how uptight he is. But everything changes when you break up with your ass of a boyfriend and old flames rekindle.warning: Mentions of a past abusive relationship.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Dottie Underwood, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 6 parter. Smut at the end so if you're reading for the sexy times you have to wait.

“Wanna go out Friday? It's our last chance before the year starts.”

Steve and Bucky were sitting on the couch, watching a movie. Bucky was on his third beer, while Steve was drinking only orange juice. He had to drive back home and he doesn’t drink, anyway. Steve used to be a sick kid and he couldn't drink or smoke without ending up in the emergency room. And even though he was much healthier now, except for his asthma, he preferred not to risk it.

“Can’t. I promised [Y/N] I'd go with her to The Avengers.”

The Avengers was the name of the bar where Bucky's sister band played weekly. Or at least they did until last year when the girls started college. Now they were playing only on holidays. Except for [Y/N]. She left the band for an unknown reason a while ago. Now she was just going to The Avengers to support Peggy, Dot and Sharon.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I know your sister and family are important, but I really don't like her, Bucks. I thought you split again because of Teddy.”

“We made up.”

[Y/N] Barnes was a disaster. She got into fights she couldn't win, then Bucky had to drop everything and help her. She got drunk in bars and then she needed her brother to bring her home. On top of all that, she has an annoying boyfriend and each time Bucky told her that, they end up fighting. Then they stop talking for a week until [Y/N] needs something, then he runs back to her.

“She's using you, Bucky. She’s taking advantage of you for being a good brother.”

Bucky winced.

“You don't know what you're talking about. You two could be friends if you’d bother to pull your head out of your ass. You have a lot in common. You both get into fights you have no chance of winning; you have that stupid hero complex and the need to fix people. You’re an artist, she’s a musician.

Steve sighed.

“She wrote one song called ‘Red Wine’ and then left the band.”

“You’re not even giving her a chance. Come with us to The Avengers on Friday. It'll be like when we were kids. Plus alcohol.”

Steve laughed. The last thing he wanted to do was spend time with [Y/N]. But he missed Bucky. They have spent little time since returning for the holidays (because of [Y/N]).

“Fine.”

Bucky's phone rang, [Y/N]'s name lit up on the screen.

“Let me guess, she’s wasted and needs your help.”

Bucky hurried to the door, put on his jacket, then threw Steve’s jacket at him.

“She broke up with Teddy. She needs up to pick her up. You drive.”

Steve hadn’t heard from Bucky that week, but he didn't contact him either. He thought he wanted to be there for his sister and he didn't want to get between the two of them. Until Friday when he received a call.

“Still want to come to The Avengers? I finally convinced [Y/N] to get out of the house.”

“Sure, lemme get ready.”

When Steve arrived at the club, The Black Widows - [Y/N]'s band - were already on stage, while Bucky and his sister were already half-drunk at a table, having fun.

“Stevie,” Bucky smiled excitedly. “We were waiting for you.”

[Y/N] wasn't even half as happy to see him there, though. She didn't even greet him. She handed him a shot of vodka with green apple juice, which Steve refused, then rolled her eyes and drank the shot herself.

She was talking nonstop with her brother about music, college and how much she missed her friends over there. Then Steve would say something, Bucky would answer and [Y/N] wouldn’t make a sound. Until she came up with another idea and talked over Steve, drawing her brother’s attention to her.

Bucky felt like a ping-pong ball. Steve. [Y/N]. Steve. [Y/N]. His head was dizzy after shaking it all night. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to bring Steve and [Y/N] together. But it was their last night at home and he didn't want to choose between them. [Y/N] needed him, but so did Steve.

“I'm thinking of cutting my hair short,” said [Y/N] suddenly, interrupting Steve.

Ever since Steve knew her, [Y/N] had never had a haircut.

“I think it would look good on you,” Bucky commented.

“Can I braid your hair?”

Bucky nodded his head and [Y/N] began to weave it. Then he turned to Steve, who began complaining that he didn't get his portraits right and that he had to get more practice this year.

The Black Widows later took a break, making their way to the table, laughing and chirping. There was Peggy, her younger sister Sharon, Dot and Natasha. Nat wasn't part of the band, she was [Y/N]'s roommate and they had become good friends, so she wanted to visit her since she didn't have the best relationship with her family. And since she was there and had a knack for music, The Black Widows let her play with them. She knew the songs from [Y/N]–who had just finished braiding her brother's hair when she was sitting at the table.

"Looking good, James," Dot commented.

Bucky winked at her. Those two have been dancing back and forth all holiday. Steve kept wondering when he would ask her out.

“I’m gonna go out for a cigarette,” [Y/N] blurted. “Jamie, are you coming?”

That's how she called Bucky. When [Y/N] was little, she couldn’t say James, but she could say Jamie. Ever since they were little, he has always been Jamie to her.

James Buchanan Barnes was Steve’s Bucky, but [Y/N]’s Jamie.

“I'm trying to quit.”

Bucky glanced at Steve, looking slightly tense. He’s been nagging him to quit for a while now, and Bucky wanted to lie down the bad habit too. He just found it hard, especially when he was stressed.

[Y/N] did not miss the exchange of looks between the two. She frowned.

“Just ‘cause you have a superiority complex and you don't know how to have fun, doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for all of us, Steve!” she spat.

“Or maybe just because you have self-destructive tendencies doesn't mean you have to drag down those who care about you.”

Steve had not yet forgiven [Y/N] for making Bucky pick up smoking when he was sixteen. He remembers very well. She has been smoking since ninth grade, then stared dragging Bucky out to smoke with her until he gave in.

“Oh, look at me! I'm Steve Rogers. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't have sex, I'm so superior!”

“I'm sorry I can't call Bucky at two in the morning to get me out of a dirty bar because I'm hammered. He's already too busy to do this for you.”

[Y/N]'s head jerked toward her brother.

“I really tried, Jamie, but he's unbearable.”

And then she walked out of the bar, with Bucky following on her footsteps, leaving Steve to drink his alcohol-free cocktail alone.

“Good Lord, Rogers. Have little compassion,” Peggy scolded him.

Steve shrugged.

“She started it. It's not my fault I don't wanna let my friend die of cancer.”

Nat put her hands on her hips.

“She just ended a five-year relationship. What are expecting?”

All the other girls, except for Nat, left the table and went to the bar. The redhead sat next to Steve and then took a sip from a glass of liquor that Bucky left untouched on the table.

“[Y/N] will hate me for telling you this, but I can't stand to see you like that. Teddy wasn't a good boyfriend. Not at all. But she loved him dearly, and it's hard to forget that in a few days.”

“It's not like they broke up for good. He'll apologize for everything he's done, and [Y/N] will forgive him like she always does. I’ll give them two weeks max.”

They broke up for good. Nat and Steve were watching a match in his apartment one evening and chatting; they did that on weekends. Then Nat brought up Teddy who appeared unannounced at the dorm where [Y/N] and she shared a room, apologizing to her on his knees, but [Y/N] didn't take him back. The break up was permanent this time.

Steve was sorry for the way he spoke to [Y/N] that night. Every time he passed by her on campus he would apologize, but she’d just glare at him coldly and leave.

He thought he wouldn't hear from [Y/N] again until Bucky would force them to talk to each other like he usually does, but to his surprise a week later his phone rang.

“Steve?” it was [Y/N]'s voice. “Sorry to bother you, but ... I need you.”

The voice was [Y/N]'s, the phone number was hers. He had it since ninth grade, from when they were still friends–he couldn’t bring himself to delete it. But Steve couldn't believe those words would ever come out of [Y/N]'s mouth. Especially said to him.

“What happened?”

There was an emergency. He wondered immediately if something had happened to Bucky.

“I'll explain when you get there. Can you come to the dorms?”

“On my way.”

Steve knew the way to the dorms because he had taken Nat there many times. He drove the path without thinking, worrying only of what horror might have happened if [Y/N] had called him out of all people.


	2. Chapter 2

[Y/N] was waiting for him in front of the big gate, trembling slightly, despite the thick jacket she was wearing and her Gryffindor hat. That was one thing they had in common, no matter how much Steve was trying to deny. He was a Gryffindor, too.

The girl quickly got into his car, rubbing her hands together.

Steve felt the urge to take her hands in his and warm them up. But he didn’t. He hasn’t felt like that towards [Y/N] since he was fifteen and hopelessly in love with her. But now it was no longer the case. Steve was over it.

"I'm sorry I picked on you," she said after a long silence "I was a bitch. Sorry."

“No, I was an idiot. I can't even imagine what you went through and what it was like. I should’ve been more sensible.”

They gazed at each other in silence.

“I like your hair.”

It was true. Steve had never seen [Y/N] with short hair. When they first met, she had long hair and was almost always braided in two tails that almost reached her midriff. It was the first time in years he took a close look at her face, noticing her features.

Her eyes were no longer covered by a hair curtain. Her cheekbones were now visible; her jaw, too. These were features that Steve never paid attention to, but now he couldn’t take his eyes off of. They made her look mature, like a woman. She wasn’t the child he used to know.

“So,” he started, feeling his cheeks flush “Where to?”

“To Theodore's.”

Steve's muscles tightened sharply. His hands suddenly strangled the steering wheel with such force that his knuckles whitened.

She just didn't call him to use him as a taxi service to take her to see her ex. Or did she?

“I gotta get something from his place. It's urgent. Please.”

She didn't seem to want to give any details, but that reassured Steve. [Y/N] gave him directions on how to get there, and he drove with great care, even slower than usual. Partially because it was the first time in years when they were alone together and didn't argue. And she was sober. Partially because he was afraid of what would happen once they got to Teddy's house.

“Stop,” [Y/N] said sharply.

Steve hit the brake, and the car stopped. But [Y/N] wouldn’t leave the car. She looked scared.

“You wanna go with me?”

Steve looked at [Y/N]. She opened her eyes wide and her lower lip trembled slightly. When she looked this way Steve was sure he would say yes to anything she asked.

He nodded, scared that his voice would reveal how nervous he suddenly was.

Maybe Bucky was right, he did have a superhero complex. All it took for him to be at [Y/N]'s feet was her needing him. He always wanted to feel needed, useful. He couldn’t help it.

And so Steve found himself in Teddy's room, while [Y/N] frantically threw clothes in her backpack, not saying a word.

“You are OK?” Steve breaks the silence. “I think it's hard to come back here, you probably have a lot of memories.”

Steve realizes that he should pay a man to follow him around and slap him every time he doesn't keep his mouth shut when he should. That would spare him of awkward moments like this one.

“Yes,” [Y/N] gave a fake smile, “I lost my virginity in this bed.”

She laughed, but it sounded bitter, and the smile on her face was full of ache. Being there was painful for her so she hid behind humor. Steve wondered if [Y/N] was pretending because she was ashamed or maybe because she wanted to impress him.

“Now that you mentioned that. How did you know, huh,” Steve paused as if trying to pick his words “that I want to wait until marriage?”

“Bucky told me.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. [Y/N] had almost forgotten that she threw this in his face a month ago. Their stupid Avengers quarrel seemed to have taken place so long ago when her biggest problem was her brother's friend, who was as beautiful as he was annoying.

[Y/N] could not bear Steve and his virtue signaling, but she had two functioning eyes and could not deny that the boy looked like a superstar.

"That was years ago," Steve said, licking his lips "Not that you would care, but I don't believe that anymore. Sex and marriage… you know what? I should shut up.”

She smiled at his dorkyness; a genuine, painless smile. It warmed Steve's heart.

“There you are!”

[Y/N] pulled a teddy bear out of a drawer but didn't put it in the backpack with the rest of the luggage. She held it in her arms as if it was something precious. Steve remembered that teddy bear, it was really old, from the time they were in kindergarten. He gave it to her for her birthday.

“Done, we can go now.”

Then the door opened.

“I forgot my- oh.”

It was Teddy.

He looked at [Y/N] in shock, then his gaze slid past Steve, darkening. [Y/N] looked down. She looked like she was trying to get out, but Teddy was blocking the door.

“You came to my house, without even telling me, a month after we broke up and thought you would bring him too! What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to hurt me?”

Teddy waved his hand toward Steve as he was screaming and [Y/N] tensed. Almost like a reflex. It was a small gesture, blink at the wrong time and you miss it. But Steve saw it, and [Y/N] knew it. That little gesture made his blood boil.

He said nothing more; he just pushed Teddy out of the door and left the room.

“[Y/N], are you coming?”

They went to the car quietly. Steve started the engine, sighing. He looked at [Y/N], who was clutching the teddy bear to her chest.

Steve couldn't get over what he saw. Teddy just gestured toward her and she ducked. As if expecting him to do it. Like he did it before.

“Has he hit you before?”

"No," [Y/N] said too quickly, shaking her head. "He never hit me."

Silence. The only thing you could hear was the car's engine.

“But,” [Y/N] began slowly. “He was about to hit me once. When I broke up with him.”

“I thought you asked me to come for moral support. But you needed someone there in case he finds you and loses his temper again.”

“Let's just say that being big is a bonus with you. But I needed moral support, too.”’

Steve started to remove some non-existent lint from his sweater, he knew it was time to hit the road because it was already nine and the dorm was likely to close soon, but he wasn't ready to leave. He felt the need to say something. Help her.

Bucky words echoed in his head. Superhero complex.

“Want to get some hot chocolate? White is still your favorite, right? I'm paying.”

They found an open café-bar where they got two hot chocolates. Almost out of reflex, Steve opened his mouth to scold [Y/N] when she pulled out a bottle and poured some vodka into her chocolate, but stopped himself. He even took the flask from her hand and poured some into his mug.

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow.

“If my brother could see me now, corrupting his Captain.”

Steve tensed at the nickname. He had got used to the nickname coined by Bucky, also because of his superhero complex. The Captain. Always trying to help people, saving young girls from creeps and getting into fights, never being able to mind his businesses; Steve Rogers was a real-life superhero.

He took a sip from his mug, surprised that he couldn’t taste the alcohol.

“It's our little secret.”

[Y/N] smiled devilishly, and Steve felt himself melting.

When they were little, Steve was in love with [Y/N]. Bucky was the only one who knew about this and he used to push Steve to confess. But Steve was a frightened and fragile child and lacked the courage.

Then when Bucky and Steve were thirteen, Bucky gave him this speech about how you shouldn't hit on your best friend's sister because he had learned from older kids. And then high school started and Teddy appeared. And [Y/N] completely distanced herself from him.

But at that moment, in that cafe-bar, Steve was again the fragile boy in love with the sister of his best friend who he had no chance with.

“Talking about Bucky, have you heard anything from him?”

“He's out with Dot. On a date.”

They continued to drink hot chocolate and talked. About school. About James. About childhood. About everything and nothing. Time passed and they ordered another chocolate. And another one. Until [Y/N]'s vodka bottle was empty.

“Do you think we should go?” Steve asks, looking at his bare wrist.

He was getting ready for bed when [Y/N] called so he left in a hurry. He forgot to put his watch on.

“Excuse me,” Steve said to a waitress. “What time do you close?”

The young woman smiled at him.

“We should’ve closed by now, but you were too cute to interrupt. I wish I had such a nice relationship.”

Steve felt his face getting hot. And if anyone asks, it was the alcohol, not because he imagined what it would be like to be with [Y/N].

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was past midnight, and they were both away from campus. At least two hours away.

“Shit, shit, shit!” shouted [Y/N].

She left the café-bar in a rush, the cold of late February hit her face.

“Who the fuck's still letting me in the dorm at this hour?”

“I'm sorry, I kept you talking. I should’ve looked at the clock. It's my fault.”

[Y/N] shook her head, frantically typing a message on the phone. She probably texted Nat.

“You can sleep at my place.”

Steve knew that if he was sober, he wouldn't have even dreamed of suggesting that. Fortunately, he was drunk.

“I'll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed. In the morning, I’ll drive you.”

[Y/N] looked at him in such awe that Steve almost felt himself falling. He considered the possibility that it was actually the alcohol at fault.

“You're the best.” She breathed hugging him.


	3. Chapter 3

Nat couldn’t believe the next day when she found out everything.

The girls drank their morning coffee on the way to classes, [Y/N] told Nat about last night. How Teddy unexpectedly appeared and made a scene, how Steve didn't let the situation escalate and helped her.

There weren’t words to explain how much she missed Teddy. Last night when she saw him, it took all her power to not jump into his arms. Every moment of last month when she wasn't with him, her heart was aching. She knew it wasn’t love. It was the habit of having him for five years. It was the codependency she’d built through that time. And the fear he instilled in her that no one will ever love her again if she leaves him, that she will always be alone.

And it hurt her to be alone. Last month was torture. But she knew it was better than being with someone like Teddy. And even though no one would ever love her again, it wasn't like he ever did.

"I talked to Clint," Nat said, pulling [Y/N] out of the vicious circle of memories she fell into. “He said he can arrange for you to play at his family's bar this week. No pressure.”

[Y/N] bit her lip. She hasn't played in public for a long time, not since Teddy told her that her songs are depressing and no one wants to listen to depressive music.

After a period of thinking, she nodded her head.

“We can call Steve to come, too, since you’re friends now.”

The girl smiled. She couldn't help herself when she remembered Steve and last night. The way he smiled, how red his face was because of the vodka, how he looked at her with big, blue eyes, sipping every word she said. It was the first time since the breakup when she hasn’t thought about Teddy for hours.

And she could talk to Steve about things she didn't dare to tell Teddy. About her dreams and music, about her home and her childhood. About Jamie. Teddy hated when [Y/N] refused to come to his place because she was spending time with her brother. Now [Y/N] was realizing that Teddy was jealous of Jamie. Because he wanted her all for himself.

“I wouldn't say we’re friends. I needed help and he provided. You know how he is, stupidly kind.”

She rolled her eyes but didn't look as annoyed as she was trying to look.

“I’ll invite him anyway, see if he comes.”

[Y/N] was terrified. She was holding her guitar as if her life depended on it. Like a man holding the edge of a cliff. Hawkeye was not as full as on other weekends, but [Y/N] hadn’t played for nearly a year. Maybe more.

She was sitting at a table near the stage with Steve and Nat. He asked her to be a model for an art project that was worth half of the final grade. A waiter came to them. [Y/N] ordered a whiskey bottle for the table and a bottle of cola.

Nat expected Steve to mumble a protest, but to her shock, he poured himself a glass. [Y/N] bit her lip, trying to stifle a laugh when she saw Steve's face after he drank.

She ended up finishing his glass.

The time came when [Y/N] had to get on stage. Nat slapped her butt playfully, making her laugh. She felt better. She could do that.

Her friends cheered loudly from the table, a few people followed suit.

"Thank you," she murmured when the applause calmed down.

She started with a cover for a warm-up, then an original piece. Red wine. It was the only piece that Teddy liked too, it was rhythmic and cheerful with lighthearted lyrics. Then another song, which she never sang in public. She began to feel more comfortable. Every time she panicked, she looked at Nat, who gave an encouraging smile to Steve, as he listened to her as if under a spell with his chin in his hands.

He returned to the table after two more songs.

“How did I do?”

Nat high-fived then pointed to her phone, her brother's name lit up the screen.

“Jamie," said [Y/N] happy. "Have you heard all of it?”

The girl gestured to the door and walked out with the phone in a more quiet place. Jamie told her how Steve had called him since the first song so he could hear everything. He apologized for not being able to see her, but the next day he had a job interview and couldn't stay up late. [Y/N] understood, she was glad he could be there through the phone.

They talked about Dot and the date they had. They were officially together now. [Y/N] lit a cigarette while listening, and when Jamie finished, she was already on her second. She hadn't smoked in a few weeks. She’s been trying to quit since she broke up with Teddy, but smoking calmed her nerves and she was crazy nervous now.

“How are you?” Jamie asks. “Nat told me you had no nightmares this week.”

“I didn't realize you were calling Nat to check up on me.”

Some voices were heard in the background on the other line, probably her brother's flatmates. She stopped midway the third cigarette and threw the rest into a trash can.

"I'm worried, that's all," Jamie apologized. “You know, she told me you became friends with Steve. I wouldn't have believed it if he didn't call me to tell me he's at the bar with you.”

[Y/N] realized how long she sat outside until Steve came out to look for her. He was wearing only a thin, light blue sweater.

“Are you ok? You've been missing for half an hour.”

“I could say the same about you. You’re shaking.”

Steve put his hands in his pockets and shook his shoulders. He was trying to hide how cold he was.

"I wasn't expecting it to be that cold already," he said, his breath coming out in clouds.

[Y/N] took off her jacket; it was a men's XL jeans jacket because it was Bucky's, so it fitted Steve perfectly. As [Y/N] settled his collar, Steve held his breath. She was standing so close to him and her hands were on his neck.

“Are you wearing makeup?” Steve asks.

[Y/N] nodded her head. Nothing too glamorous; some mascara, a nude eye shadow, and highlighter. If Steve wasn't standing so close to her he wouldn't have noticed.

“You’re beautiful.”

[Y/N] had stopped wearing make-up in ninth when Teddy told her to. She told him she was more beautiful natural and her makeup just made her look cheap. It wasn't like she was wearing much makeup before; just mascara and the same ruby red lipstick every day. Steve remembered that lipstick because he has a weakness for women in bright red lipstick because of her.

As he remembers her lipstick, Steve's gaze slid over [Y/N]'s lips, unintentionally. He never wanted to kiss anyone more in his life.

“Thank you for coming to support me.”

[Y/N] smiled, and Steve's knees softened. There he is, fifteen-year-old Steve, small, fragile and completely in love with his best friend's sister. As if nothing has changed in the last five years. No matter how hard he tried to avoid her and to distance himself from her. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that he hated her. No matter how much she changed after Teddy appeared in her life. Now she was [Y/N] again, and he was the same Steve.

“My pleasure, I really liked the last song.

“Teddy never let me sing it. Not even hum it around the house.”

The girl shook her head as if trying to put aside unpleasant memories of her former boyfriend. Or maybe the pleasant memories.

“Why?”

“Isn't that obvious?” [Y/N] asks with a forced smile.

Steve's confused face seemed to have answered the question.

“Because it's about you.”

The song Steve was talking about was an eight-year-old girl who liked a boy in her class and she sees him with another girl. The little girl gets angry and fights the other girl. It's an interesting song about how children interpret emotions and how they express them with a subtle comment about how children internalize the violence they see at home or on TV. He didn't understand how it could be about him.

“You don't remember when I fought Peggy in the second grade because of you? After she kissed you…”

Steve looked more and more confused, blinking often as if trying to remember something. Yeah, in second grade Peggy kissed him on the cheek for a break. That same day [Y/N] and Peggy fought on the football field wich resulted in their detention for two weeks. But he had no idea that these two events were related.

"You really don’t know I used to like you when I was a kid," [Y/N] realized. “I thought it was super obvious.”

This meant that once upon a time, [Y/N] Barnes was in love with Steve Rogers.

Since then they’ve been spending more and more time together. They went to bars - though Steve refused to drink - they were spending time at the library, they were doing homework together. Steve listened to [Y/N] sing and play guitar and he sometimes drew her. They were friends, finally, and Steve didn't remember a time when he was happier.

And [Y/N] seemed happy. She’d go out, singing, wearing makeup, dressing exactly as she wanted. Sometimes she would disappear for a few days, and then she’d appear more radiant the before. She was a big hurricane of emotions and Steve was falling in love with her more and more every day. But he didn't do anything regarding those feelings. She needed a friend. He and [Y/N] were friends and Steve was so happy. And he thought that [Y/N] was happy too.

That's why Steve was shocked when a very sad and pretty drunk [Y/N] called him in the middle of the night. She was in a bar in the fireplace area.

“Stevie,” she sighs.

Her voice sounded broken, pained. Steve's heart was breaking. Then she said the thing that put him on his knees at her feet at all times.

“I need you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Steve hurried to the bar that was just one block from [Y/N]'s home. He knew it well. He and Bucky went there countless times to bring her home when she was too drunk to be left alone.

It was an old pub, the deep green paint outside was chipped and the neon sign at the entrance didn’t work. Steve never saw it turned on in the past two years. From the inside it seemed made of stone; the wood tables were full of burn marks from cigarettes and chewing gum residue.

Steve scoured over the tables and the bar, but [Y/N] was nowhere in sight. Then he saw her on the dance floor, which was a small patch of empty space in one corner of the room. Up to seven people could fit there. Maybe eight, if they really tried. She and two other men, who seemed to be around thirty, were doing something that could be called anything but dancing.

He made his way up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. One guy glared at him, but the other didn't even seem to notice.

“Rogers!” [Y/N] said excitedly

He turned around. A gasp escaped his lips when he saw her. Her eyes were surrounded by black circles of mascara and eyeliner that run down to her cheeks. She was wearing red lipstick. That red lipstick. But it was faded and smudged. As if she'd kissed someone. But Steve didn't want to consider this option.

He had no right to be jealous. They were friends. [Y/N] owed him nothing. But that didn't stop him from the jotting unnerving in his gut.

“Dance with me, Rogers.”

[Y/N]'s hands slid around Steve's neck, as she began to swing completely off the beat.

It took a little persuasion, but he managed to convince [Y/N] to come with him to the car. As she came out the door, the girl seemed to sober up. The cold air had that effect. She tightened her jacket around her.

Once she closed the car door, as if a spell was broken, she began crying. Not knowing what to do, Steve let her unload, gently massaging her back. He wanted to be there for her, be her best friend and hated that he didn't know what to do in these situations. He hated that all he could do was sit there uncomfortable, pat her back and tell her it would be better. He hated feeling useless.

Superhero complex.

“You can say it,” [Y/N] sighed suddenly.

Steve looked at her confused.

“That you're disappointed. That I'm a disaster.”

She tried to wipe her tears, but instead, she spread her mascara on her face. She looked as if she were about to cry again when Steve took her hand in his. The hand that was calloused from playing guitar, with short nails painted with chipped turquoise polish. The hand that she holds the cigar to her mouth every time.

The same hand that fits perfectly in his.

“You didn't disappoint me. And even if you did, fuck me. It's not about what I think, it's all about you.”

“Well, then I am disappointed.”

She sighed, looking down. A tear streamed down her cheek, but Steve realized it would be too much to try to wipe it off. He didn't want to force anything.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“He called me. He said he wants to talk, apologize ... We went out for dinner.”

She paused and bit her lip.

“How could I be so stupid?”

Another pause. Steve realized that [Y/N] was trying hard to swallow her tears and wanted to tell her that she didn't have to. She can cry with him. She shouldn’t be afraid of being vulnerable in front of him.

[Y/N] is always trying to be the strongest person in the room. And she plays the tough girl role so well that Steve has believed it for a long time. Only now, after years of knowing her, does he realize that [Y/N] shows no weakness for fear of it being exploited.

“He told me how much he missed me and that he was sorry for the scene he caused when I came to him last month. And I believed him. I told him I forgave him.”

She shook her head as if trying to escape the memory.

“He assumed that this meant we were back together. He kissed me. This whole night, the speech about mistakes and changes… It was all a trick to make me go back to him. And it almost worked.”

Steve couldn't help it anymore. He took her in his arms, and she squeezed his back tight. She kept crying, letting the tears and mascara stain Steve’s shirt. Good thing he was wearing black.

Even after she let go, [Y/N] still held his hand in hers. She brought it to her lips and kissed the back of his hand. She did that often. At first, Steve thought it was a romantic gesture until he noticed she did that with Nat, too.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Better?” Steve asks.

“I still think that I’d better if it was drunk off my ass.”

“You're not?”

[Y/N] laughed. Every time he made her laugh, Steve’s heart grew bigger.

“Just a little tipsy.”

Their hands were intertwined now, and Steve couldn’t bring himself to let go and start driving. After a while, [Y/N]’s head laid on his shoulder as she’d hum a song quietly. Then she put another hand around him, resting it on his hip. It was comfortable, quiet, intimate. Steve could stay like this forever

“Could we go to your place? Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

Steve was ashamed of the condition of his apartment. Clutter, dirty dishes in the sink, table full of breadcrumbs and un unfinished bowl of cereal, clothes left on the couch. It was not his mess, but Sam's, his flatmate who was now probably doing nothing in his room.

“Sam!” cried Steve. “I’m here!”

Sam came out of his room in his pajamas, noticed [Y/N], then gave Steve a look. He knew what that look meant. He brought a cute girl to the apartment at night. Sam did this many times and he knew how those nights ended.

Steve turned back to [Y/N], trying to forget the images that formed in his mind for a fragment of a second. The girl took off her coat, revealing the tight velvet dress on her.

Steve's breath was cut off.

“I didn't know we had a company, I would’ve cleaned up. Sam.”

“[Y/N].”

They shook hands. [Y/N] apologized quickly and flopped to the bathroom to wipe her makeup off. Steve and Sam went to the kitchen, where Steve made some tea.

“Stop looking at me like that; it’s not what you think. We’re just friends.”

“I wasn't born yesterday, Cap. I saw the way you look at her.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“She had a bad date and she needed someone to get her out of there.”

He clenched his fist, as he did every time he felt uncomfortable. He wasn't going to tell Sam any more details, he didn't need to tell his whole story with [Y/N].

“If you ask me, she seems to like you too. She gives you those wistful glances.”

“Sam, my feeling for [Y/N] are none of your business”

Steve sounded angrier than he wanted. [Y/N] was a sensitive subject and he would not talk about her when she’s a few feet away basically.

Frankly, he didn’t want to talk about it because he didn’t know what he would say. He knows he loves her, yes. Truly. But he knows if he admits that to Sam, he’ll ask why he’s not saying anything. And he doesn’t want to answer that he’s scared.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbled as he went back to his room.

The tea was almost ready when [Y/N] came from the bathroom. Her face was now clean; her lips were either stained from the lipstick or reddened because she had to scrub them. However, they were slightly swollen and full of color.

And so… so kissable.

“Honey or sugar?” Steve asks,

“Honey.”

[Y/N] wrapped her arms around Steve and squeezed him slightly. She did that so casually, but she didn’t know that every time her body was pressed against Steve’s, he would forget how to breathe.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’re the kinda person who puts sugar in their tea,” she laughed to herself.

Steve didn't know if she was behaving like that because she was sleepy or still a little drunk. He told her about a hilarious incident from the history of art class and how recently a nude model came to their class.

“Ooh,” [Y/N] interrupts, wiggling her eyebrows. “Some pretty lady?”

“Try a seventy-year-old man with a Santa body type.”

[Y/N] laughed. They drank the tea in silence

“You could paint me.”

It wouldn't have been the first time he drew her. Steve had a sketchbook full of portraits with her, Nat, Bucky and anyone willing to spend hours with him until he finished a drawing. Not a lot of people.

“I could paint you right now.”

[Y/N] smiled and took Steve by the hand, leading him to the bedroom. It was a strange feeling to be led by someone else in your own bedroom. But [Y/N] was used to leading and Steve didn't mind.

She turned on the lights. Unlike the rest of the apartment, Steve's room was clean. There was nothing where it didn’t belong. The bed was made. All the drawing supplies were neatly placed on a table in one corner. Cloth, watercolors, brushes, pastels, pencils, sketchbooks over other sketchbooks. He ripped a sheet of watercolor paper and sat down on a chair.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said.

With that [Y/N] let her dress slip from her gracefully and threw it at Steve's feet, who only then realized what was happening.

“That's not what I had in mind...”

He coughed trying to sound nonchalant as his heart thumped and his stomach knotted. He didn't even dare to look at her so he stared at the paper, trying to sketch [Y/N] from memory.

“I think you have to look at me to draw me.”

You could hear her the smugness in the tone as she spoke. It was stupid of Steve to believe that she was not aware of the effect she had on him. Especially when he stops breathing every time she touches him. Of course she realized.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants.

“Look at me.”

Her demanding tone sent an electric shock through Steve's body to his stomach. A moan stuck in his throat and caused him to swallow dry.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands folded across her chest, enough to cover part of her breasts. She smiled at her, and Steve couldn't stop a groan from escaping his lips.

She was gorgeous.

“Is it too much? Do you want me to cover up?”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. He was putting in great effort to maintain visual contact and not let his eyes slip on [Y/N]’s body. He wanted to get drunk on the beautiful sight, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He bit his lip.

“Speak, Steve. I have no way of knowing what you want unless you talk.”

“I want to,” he began, but he lost his voice.

He didn't dare to say what he wanted out loud.

In general, Steve wanted [Y/N] to hold his hand and cuddle with him. He wanted to be able to sleep in the same bed as her, be spooned by her. He wanted to be able to talk to her every night before bed, not just through text.

But right now, he wanted [Y/N] to fuck him.

But he didn't say anything.

And after a long silence, [Y/N] interpreted his silence the only way she could. She covered herself with the sheets on the bed and laid down, her back to Steve. He heard her sobbing so he kneeled near the bed and put a hand gently on her shoulder.

“What happened?” he whispered.

“You're such a good friend, Steve. You have been with me these past months and you’ve helped me tremendously. And I get drunk and try to fuck you like a slut.”

“No, Steve protested immediately. Don’t say that. I want to paint your portrait. But I think anything else would be wrong.”

He paused to straighten his voice.

“You’re hurt and I don’t want to intervene in your healing process.”

[Y/N] waited until she stopped crying to answer.

“You really are the perfect gentleman, Steve Rogers” she smiled sadly.

The girl stood up, propping himself up on the edge of the bed. She was holding the sheets tight to her chest to cover herself up.

“Teddy was so jealous every time I spent time with you. And can you blame him? You're absolutely perfect. And it took me years to realize...”

She sighs again.

What [Y/N] said sounded dangerously close to a love confession, but Steve refused to believe. Of course, after a relationship with someone like Teddy, any guy who treated her with basic human decency seemed perfect in comparison. Steve just happened to be the closest guy.

She couldn’t be in love with him. She was hurt and confused and he was hurting her even more by being close.

It would be stupid to let the words spoken by a slightly drunk and extremely hurt [Y/N] get to his head. But after he went to sleep that night on the couch in the living room her words were still repeating in his mind.

You’re perfect.


End file.
